


the sins of the father

by brokibrodinson



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Father/Son Incest, Lactation Kink, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnancy Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 18:32:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4110880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokibrodinson/pseuds/brokibrodinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haytham's second introduction to fatherhood goes a little differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sins of the father

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scaresandcrows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaresandcrows/gifts).



> Written for Victoria on her birthday <3
> 
> I'm not anticipating this fic to be to everyone's tastes, so don't feel bad if it makes you uncomfortable and you have to close the page. It could get a bit squicky.

If Haytham was surprised to learn he was a father the first time around, it was nothing compared to the second.

It had come as a great shock to both of them when they first found out, but now eight months in, they were more or less used to the idea.

Connor was pregnant.

Neither of them knew how, or what to do about it, but with time they grew to accept the utter impossibility of the situation, and even began to feel a little excited.

Haytham had watched in fascinated disbelief as his son’s body gradually changed, growing to accommodate the young body inside him.

Once Connor’s stomach had swelled enough that he was beginning to show, they both agreed it would be best to retire to the Davenport Homestead for the remainder of the prenatal period, where they would be safe from prying eyes.

By all accounts Connor’s pregnancy seemed to be going smoothly, despite the fact that the Assassin was still most definitely a man.

Haytham had very little experience with pregnancies, and wasn’t entirely certain what to do with himself, other than to make sure Connor was well-fed and comfortable.

Though of course there was one other thing he could always be relied upon to provide.

The rampant hormones raging through Connor’s body affected him quite significantly, causing random mood swings that sometimes manifested themselves as bouts of heightened libido.

Of course it wasn’t that Connor could have ever been described as unenthusiastic in the past, but now he had days where his desire verged on desperation, his kisses violent where they were pressed against his father’s mouth while his hands pulled at his clothing just short of tearing it.

It was harder to properly indulge these days, both of them mindful of the child growing inside Connor, as well as the fact that the added weight made him significantly less agile than usual.

Still, they took care of each other as best they could, often using their hands or their mouths to bring each other to completion.

On one such night Connor approached Haytham with a troubled expression.

“What is it?” Haytham asked, concerned.

Connor looked down at the floor, still shy despite everything. “I need you,” he murmured.

A simple phrase, but easily enough to send a thrill of desire down Haytham’s spine. He licked his lips unconsciously before rising from his chair.

“Sit down,” he ordered, waiting until Connor was seated in the chair he had just vacated before moving closer. His heated gaze raked Connor’s heavily pregnant form, lingering proudly on his swollen belly before moving up to assess the quiet hunger in his son’s dark eyes.

Haytham took a sort of wicked pleasure in the knowledge that it was his child Connor carried, borne of their incestuous union. It was unnatural; a perversion against nature, and he revelled in it.

The Templar slowly sank to his knees before Connor’s chair, parting his thighs with his hands so he could kneel between them. He looked up at his son, the first hint of a suggestive smile tugging at his mouth. “What may I do for you?”

Tonight he would serve him; his son, his lover, the bearer of his child.

Connor hesitated, slowly but surely catching on to this new game of his father’s. “Undress me,” he ordered, barely more than a whisper. (He still wasn’t used to giving orders, especially to Haytham.)

So Haytham did, unbuttoning his loose clothing with slow well-practised movements until the full glory of Connor’s nakedness was revealed. He ran reverent fingers over his stomach, then looked up for further instruction.

Connor sighed, relaxing back further into the comfortable armchair, then motioned Haytham to stand over him. Reaching up, Connor pulled him down to his mouth, kissing him with an appreciative groan that rumbled deep in his throat.

Haytham balanced himself with one hand gripping the back of the chair, then surged into the kiss with a growl.

After thoroughly exploring the Assassin’s mouth and leaving his lips red and swollen, Haytham moved on to his jaw, then down along his sensitive throat.

Connor tilted his head back readily, tangling a hand in his father’s hair and tightening his grip as he felt his teeth scrape his pulse.

Haytham smirked against his skin, unapologetic, then moved down further to lap teasingly at a nipple.

What he didn’t expect was for Connor to hiss and arch in surprised pleasure. “S-sensitive,” he gasped.

Oh? That was new. New and interesting. Haytham made certain to lavish attention on the two buds, using both his mouth and his fingers and taking pleasure in Connor’s hitched breaths.

He abruptly pulled away, surprising Connor into opening his eyes again. “What is it?”

“I... don’t know,” Haytham replied, brow furrowing as he gently pinched a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. As they both watched a small drop of thin white liquid welled between his fingers before trickling down his bare skin in a tiny rivulet.

Haytham looked back at Connor who looked just as confused as he felt. “You don’t think..?”

Connor looked uncomfortable. “I do not know.” His expression swiftly turned to one of alarm, as Haytham proceeded to lower his head again to lick experimentally at the liquid.

He pulled away, looking intrigued. “It _is_.”

It was milk. Connor’s body had begun providing milk in preparation for the birth of his child.

“Father-” Connor began, uncertain of how to proceed, but paused as he noticed the devious glint in the older man’s eyes.

“Connor,” Haytham replied, leaning in close again. “I wonder if you might allow me to,” he broke off to lick teasingly at a nipple again, lapping up a stray drop of the warm liquid, “relieve you.”

Connor hesitated. His nipples and even his pectorals did feel quite sore and sensitive, but wasn’t this just a bit too perverted, even for them?

He relaxed back into his chair with a quiet sigh. “Do it,” he breathed.

Haytham smirked at him, looking decidedly predatory, before ducking his head to take one of the tender buds into his mouth and beginning to suck.

Connor moaned in shocked delight, squirming beneath the hot slickness of Haytham’s mouth, his fingers finding their way to his hair again so he could tug and pull with each wave of pleasure that overcame him.

Meanwhile Haytham was taking great enjoyment from the taste of his son’s warm sweet milk on his tongue, delighting in the twisted intimacy of this particular act.

He could feel Connor’s interest in the proceedings pressing against his thigh, and reached down with his hand to stroke and tease, until the Assassin was helpless to resist, writhing and bucking restlessly beneath him in a bid for more contact.

Having lingered on both of Connor’s swollen nubs and satisfied his thirst, Haytham moved up again to kiss him deeply, letting him taste his own milk.

Connor groaned into the kiss, parting his lips eagerly to his father’s tongue. He wanted more, wanted _everything_ , but for now he’d take what he was given.

Haytham pulled away again, moving back to press a lingering kiss to Connor’s stomach before resting a hand on each of Connor’s hips and pulling him down so he had more room to spread his legs.

Despite having guessed his plans, Connor couldn’t prevent a gasp escaping him as a wicked tongue licked him from root to tip. His cock was already hard from Haytham’s earlier teasing; now it was near painful with need.

“ _Please_ ,” he implored him, desperate for the Templar’s mouth to engulf him and resume the sweet suction of earlier to bring him to completion.

Haytham had no such plans however, continuing to torment him with small worshipful kisses and well-placed swipes of his tongue until Connor was half-crazed with desire.

Satisfied, the Grand Master gave one last lick to the tip of his cock – now weeping – then rose to his feet and admired his handiwork.

Connor’s eyes were glazed and heavy-lidded, his cheeks flushed with pure want, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. His bronze skin was taut and smooth over the beautiful curve of his stomach, and his cock was dark and full.

Haytham’s eyes drank their fill of the magnificent sight, his own arousal straining for attention within his breeches.

“What now, hmm?” he asked lazily, smirking when Connor could do little more than pant in response, sprawled and lopsided in his chair. “Shall I fuck you?”

“Yes,” Connor hissed, taking Haytham’s hand when it was offered and letting him pull him to his feet.  Circling the chair so he was behind it, he braced himself with his hands gripping the back, his body a long line of muscled athleticism and glowing fertility.

Haytham felt his mouth turn dry at the sight, his breath hitching in his throat. He too moved so he was behind Connor, withdrawing a vial of oil from his coat as he did so.

He prepared Connor with careful efficiency, his own impatience rising within him and preventing him from wasting any more time.

Once his son was appropriately stretched and pushing back on his fingers with a low whining sound, Haytham at last unlaced his breeches and slicked up his cock.

He began to press in slowly but surely until he was sheathed to the hilt, both of them sighing in relief as he did so.

Connor’s breaths were nearly sobs in his throat, so desperate was he for release, so Haytham waited no longer than was necessary for him to adjust before pulling out again and plunging back in.

Letting his head bow, Connor lost himself in the rhythm of it, his entire body trembling with each thrust and the effort of holding himself upright. Hazily he thought about the depravity of the situation, that the seed of his own father who had created him had sown life within his own loins.

He hungered to feel more of it, hungered to feel it fill him inside and drip down his thighs.

His sordid musings were cut off as Haytham’s cock happened to drive against his prostate, causing him to gasp and shudder. His legs would have buckled were it not for Haytham’s firm grip on his waist, holding him against his body.

Connor felt wetness on his chest and glanced down to find he was lactating again, watching with embarrassment as the thin fluid ran down his bare skin. Clearly Haytham seemed to like it, but Connor wasn’t sure what to make of his body freely leaking liquid like this.

His attention was swiftly dragged back to the activity behind him, as Haytham rammed into him with a particularly violent thrust that made him cry out as it connected again with his prostate.

Haytham growled in satisfaction and repeated the motion until Connor felt he would explode from the overstimulation. It took one last powerful thrust for Haytham to bury himself inside his son and spill his seed, panting against Connor’s shoulder as he fought to catch his breath.

Remembering himself, he reached around to wrap fingers around the Assassin’s cock and stroked him to completion, smiling to himself as he watched the boy’s come splash over his distended stomach.

Connor sagged against him, sated and exhausted, his skin stained with his own sweat and come and colostrum.

Haytham carefully pulled out, watching with satisfaction as some of his own come spilled from Connor’s entrance in his wake.

“Look at yourself,” he murmured, supporting Connor’s weight as he helped him to straighten. He dragged his fingers from Connor’s pelvis up across his stomach to one of pectorals. “All filthy and debauched. And you like it don’t you.”

Though Connor’s cheeks flushed with shame, he nodded slowly, too fucked out to properly appreciate the state of himself.

Haytham smiled at him, realising then how drained Connor was. He needed rest.

He helped him to bathe and then tucked him into his four-poster bed that the two of them had been sharing.

“You make me very happy, Connor,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to his son’s cheek.

Connor’s eyes were already closed, but his mouth curved into a blissful smile.

**Author's Note:**

> you can yell at me now :D


End file.
